


There Are No Jewish Missionaries

by Annehiggins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:51:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annehiggins/pseuds/Annehiggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel makes a choice between Heaven and Dean. Not a story about Falling, but rather why I think that's simply not an issue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Are No Jewish Missionaries

**Author's Note:**

> Posted to Live Journal January 13, 2009 with this note: I'm far from a Biblical scholar, but I love sociology. And that's more about figuring out the reason behind something than holding on to it. Some of what I write about I already knew, some I made a guess at and hit Google just as Dean and Sam do. The inferences made from this information are my own and not meant to give offense, but if you are the sort who will take it, do NOT read this.

  
**There Are No Jewish Missionaries**  
By Anne Higgins

"Have you forgotten, Brother, that our Father takes a dim view of suicide?"

Castiel forced himself not to react and pretended complete absorption in the fascinating sight of the Winchesters and the demoness climbing into the Impala. Unwise since he had practically broadcast the need for this conversation when he had chosen to return to human form in a grove of trees near the barn. Of course he _had_ hoped his companion would fail to join him.

Uriel's beefy hand closed around his upper arm and squeezed hard enough to cause discomfort. "Do not feign deafness," he growled in the deep, gruff voice of his vessel. "I will have an explanation."

He sighed and momentarily considered disbursing his vessel to deal with his angry brother in his true form, but decided against it. While the Winchesters might laugh to hear him say it, Castiel was far more comfortable in a human's skin than Uriel. It would not do to surrender what little advantage he had merely to escape the angry angel's grasp. "I did not attempt to take my life."

Uriel snorted. "Maybe not, but you did precious little to preserve it."

"I don't know what-?"

"I am no more in the mood for lies than evasions. Or do you expect me to believe scum like Alastair could take you down with so little effort?"

A shiver moved through his body. He could still feel the demon's hands upon him, still feel the echoes of the pain his incantation caused. "I … He had protections surrounding him I did not expect." Inwardly he winced at the answer. It was his function to plan, to know, to anticipate, yet he had attacked with the sort of thoughtless zeal more common to Uriel. Dean's attentions to Anna had rattled him more than he cared to admit.

Uriel waited for more, but he had no other words to offer. Something inside him had given up as the demon had forced him to the floor. He had come within seconds of death or, at best, exorcism and years of exile to Heaven while he struggled to recover. Again he shuddered, this time at the very thought of watching helpless while the war raged, while his brothers and sisters died, while … "A momentary lapse," he said. "It will not happen again." The stakes were far too high. Dea – humanity needed his protection.

A gaze that seemed as heavy as the hand that held him examined him for long minutes. "This is about the human, is it not?"

"No, I …" his protest burst out without thought behind it, but then he stopped. Thought had so little to do with what had happened. "No, had I fallen you all would have died." It seemed the right answer, yet, it felt false.

Uriel released him. "I had it wrong then. It is not me you wish to deceive, but yourself."

"No, if I had died –"

"Had you fought, we would have won," Uriel's voice boomed over his denial. "We would have ended the traitor's life and you would have had to face the human's hatred or his return to Hell."

Anger flared. "That was an empty threat, and you know it!" he snapped. "I alone can do such a thing, and I did not agree to do so." Oh, the other members of the Host had the power, but Castiel's Grace infused Dean Winchester, kept his soul united with a body it literally had been ripped from. To return him to Hell without Castiel's consent would send the part of him that lived within Dean to the Pit as well. Even such a small part of an angel in the hands of demons carried great danger. It could not, would not be done.

"Father could have ordered it."

And there it was. The reason he had risked death or exile rather than face victory. Father did not tolerate disobedience and could have punished the Winchesters by commanding Castiel to return Dean to Hell. 

He forced himself to face the truth and think the unthinkable. If given such a command, he might have refused and suffered the same fate as Anna for his defiance. Dead, his Grace would vanish from Dean. Since Dean's soul had not healed enough to withstand the loss, it would have been cast free of his body. With that, the lowest minion of Heaven could have returned him to Hell. "I know."

Another inelegant snort. "He screwed the traitor, yet you would choose the destruction of your Grace or death to save him." The order of his possible fates clearly indicated which Uriel considered the worse.

Castiel remained uncertain of whether he agreed or not. Certainly to favor Dean over Heaven would eventually force a diminishment of his Grace. It was simply impossible to remain in a human form for long periods of time without leaving a part of his true self in Heaven. At times the idea horrified him. At others, he chaffed under the need to wait until after they stopped Lilith before he could remain at Dean's side. His inability to decide had kept him from acting on his love for the man.

"Castiel-"

"Enough," he snapped, jerking his arm free. The truth of Uriel's words did not make this conversation acceptable. He did not know if Father would order him to continue to work with Uriel, but it would not do at all for his brother to forget who held the higher station. "It is time to go."

A nod of the head signaled agreement and they dispersed their human forms and flew toward home. Agreement accompanied by not the slightest attempt to hide Uriel's contempt for Castiel's feelings for Dean.

Castiel accepted the affront given the poor choices he had made during this operation, but he would reign him in quickly enough in the future. He would have sighed if his current form drew in air as his human visage did. An excellent warrior despite the events of the last hour, he knew he could no longer afford indecision. He would have to choose whether his fate rested with Heaven or Dean, all while knowing full well this fiasco could well have ensured Dean would never welcome his presence again. A pity Anna had deliberately misled Dean when she'd said angels had no feelings.

*

Dean slipped out of the hotel room to give Sam and Ruby some alone time. Still didn't know quite how he felt about her shacking up with them, but he couldn't argue their plan had gotten her cut up and she needed looking after. Guess that meant they owed her one and letting her snuggle up to Sammy at night fit the bill, but it made him all kinds of uncomfortable.

Almost as uncomfortable as deliberately booking a separate room. Sure, one or the other of them – well, until lately, mostly Dean – had spent a good part of the night under a different roof, but they always stayed together. But so not stupid or blind. He could see his brother had fallen for demon girl and after what happened with Alastair and Anna, Dean thought, hoped, maybe even prayed a little around the edges that Ruby sort of loved Sammy back. Once she finished with the healing, they'd both want more than a nighttime snuggle, and Dean did not want a front seat for that. 

He smirked. Not at the idea of watching Sammy getting it on, but of the look on his brother's face at the idea of anyone watching while he did. But his humor faded fast and he sighed. He glanced across the street at a row of bars. A virtual smorgasbord of oblivion a few feet away, but he wasn't really in the mood to pretend the booze helped. No, today was more about facing reality and saying he was okay with it by making the needed move. At least this way he'd know where baby brother was even if it meant walls between them.

Two-bedroom suites not in the budget or in existence in dumps like their current base camp, he walked into the office and booked the room next door to what had just become Sam's room. A few minutes later he flopped down onto the center of a king-sized bed. He'd move his stuff over in a few, but right now the whole thing had him depressed enough to not want to move.

What a fucking mess. Sam in love with a demon who Dean knew in his heart of hearts would eventually turn on them, the whole demon blood in his brother's veins, and, oh, yeah, the very real possibility that a horde of angels would pop up on the doorstep and thrown all their asses into hell – and all Dean could do was lie on a crappy motel bed feeling sorry for himself because he had to sleep alone. He found himself missing Anna. Not because he'd cared for her that much, but because she'd been a warm body in a cold world and Dean was soul weary of being cold.

He frowned. He hadn't really wanted to climb aboard the 'new warm body every night' express when he got back from Hell. For all the priceless teasing value of telling Sammy he felt like a virgin again, he had. And from the first he'd known who he'd wanted to lose it to, but that was a no go, so he'd floundered around and ended up with Anna. She'd sort of understood him – she knew what had happened, what he'd done – and she was the closest thing to what he really wanted he'd ever get. "Cas," he sighed, then grimaced at the sudden presence next to him. Fuck. He hadn't meant to call him. … Had he?

"Are you all right?"

"Oh, I'm just peachy," Dean all but snarled. Maybe his subconscious had called out for the winged bastard, but the rest of him was still pissed. He sat up, but remained on the bed. "You here to drab my ass back to Hell?"

"That threat was made without my knowledge or consent."

"As opposed to the one you made in Bobby's kitchen."

Castiel sighed. "I'm sorry for that. I spoke rashly in my haste to silence you."

"Silence me?"

"From time to time, others listen to our conversations, and you were being intemperate in the face of our losses."

Listen? He did not like the sound of that. "What do you mean listen?"

Castiel gave him a look Dean would have called exasperated if angels could feel that sort of thing. "Dean, you cannot scream about us not watching over you one minute, then protest about us doing so when we can the next."

Dean glared at him. "We were having a private conversation!"

"I was there to give you a situation report and the others were curious about you. Unfortunately, they did not see you at your best and would have viewed me as unable to handle you had I not … stopped you."

He opened his mouth to shoot something back about fuck the others, but that probably included Uriel and he didn't want the visual, so, no. "I was pissed that night."

"So was I." He paused, giving Dean a look. "I believe grief and fear also played a part in both our reactions."

"Angels don't have feelings."

"Yes, of course. You would take the word of a coward hiding behind you over mine." 

And if that wasn't pissed, Dean had never heard it before. But he wasn't in the mood to be reasonable. "She was an innocent girl!"

"Perhaps at first. But what was her excuse for allowing you to risk your lives after she remembered who she was?"

Dean opened his mouth to protest, then snapped it shut, for once at a loss for words. The whole fucking mess had gotten under his skin so deeply he couldn't remember if she'd done the token 'run, leave me, save yourself' bit or not. He sighed. "We wouldn't have gone even if she'd tried to send us away."

Castiel gave him a disgusted look. "Do you truly believe that if I were stripped of my Grace I would not still know a hundred different ways to keep you from following me if I wished to escape you?"

"Umm." This came under the category of trick question or 'things that will get your ass kicked if you answer wrong and there probably isn't a right answer.' He hated shit like this!

He could almost hear the 'oh, for God's sakes,' but he supposed it was too much to hope for that Cas would break down and say it. But to Dean's disappointment, he found he'd finally driven the angel off the bed, as Cas lept to his feet and started a slow walk around the room that looked a hell of a lot like pacing to Dean. "You do," Cas said. "You think that if I lost my Grace I'd become some helpless fool who wouldn't even know how to use the toilet without your help!"

"Umm."

"I assure you, Dean Winchester, that what you consider modern plumbing is neither an altogether new invention, nor one unfamiliar to me." He turned in his sort-of-pacing and glared at Dean. "The true evil is ignorance." He could almost hear the 'human' tacked on the end. Or maybe Cas was fighting slinging one of Uriel's 'mud monkey' slams. "I am far from omniscient, but I have lived long and angels value knowledge. There is little of the Earth I do not know, including everything your father could have hoped to include in his journal."

Dean flinched. Yeah, should have thought of that.

"Anna is even older than me, and was always less concerned with the type of power she used. Or have you already forgotten her blood-spell?"

And yeah, there was that, too. "Okay, I get it. Point to you -- Anna was a bitch trying to save her own skin." But he had his own reminder to offer up. A pretty raw one given the conversation he'd had with Sam a few hours ago. "I've got no room to thrown stones on that front."

Sammy would have – had in fact – given him that broken, wounded look and not known what to say. Cas almost looked like he wanted to hit him.

"Do not compare your acts to hers," he said, his voice low and dangerous – the warrior of God very much in the room.

Stricken, he dropped his gaze to the floor. "Sorry, I –" What could he say? He'd already made it clear long ago he knew he wasn't worth whatever Castiel had done to save him. Hurt though to realize somewhere along the line he must have made Cas a believer instead of the other way around.

A strong hand gripped his chin and forced his head up. "She is not, was not worth a drop of your blood."

Warmth spread through him, and he wanted to believe. So much, but. ... "I gave in."

"Yes. You did. Everyone does, Dean," he released his hold on Dean's chin, but held his gaze with the force of his own. "Yet you fought until they broke you, you never simply agreed to spare yourself pain. There is a difference, and it is the difference between a man and a remarkable one."

"My father –"

"Was not one of Alastair's favorite victims. Once he turned his attention on your father, he, too, broke. Knowing what he must have endured, would you condemn John Winchester?"

Denial roared through Dean, a hundred defenses of his father leaping to his lips, but he knew it was a trap, that anything he said would be twisted around to excuse his own weaknesses. And he couldn't do it.

Cas shook his head. "Forgive yourself, Dean. As you forgive your father. As your brother forgives you. As I know there is nothing to forgive."

He wanted desperately to repay Castiel for the kindness of those words, and after a moment he offered up all he could. "I'll try."

A true smile crossed the angel's face, and it suddenly occurred to Dean that Castiel hadn't smiled before, not because he lacked the emotions to prompt one, but because life gave him so little to smile about. Dean found himself wanting to make it his mission in life to make him smile as often as possible. And just when had he become some chick in a romance novel? He frowned. "So I guess I screwed up with Anna."

Castiel sighed again. "No, the failure was mine. Finding you with her the first time startled me. I should have stopped to explain things." He shook his head. "But Uriel can be … volatile in such situations. Speed seemed a wiser course."

"And in the barn?"

"You let her kiss you."

What? They weren't going to talk about that, were they? Not good. So not good.

"I didn't like it," he said, then leaned over and kissed Dean.

Dean had the bathroom door locked behind him before he even processed getting off the bed. Shit, shit, shit! He leaned back against the barred door and tried to stop panicking.

"Is something wrong?" Cas asked, appearing in front of him in a clear if polite version of 'did you forget that I can pop up where ever I want to, dumbass?'

"You kissed me!" he … squeaked? No, didn't work for him. Winchesters did not squeak. Sammy squealed on occasion, but not a one of them squeaked! Hoarse. That was it, surprise had made his voice hoarse.

The angel's head tilted to the left. "Yes, is this a problem?"

"You can't do that!" Jesus Christ, so to speak, didn't they teach these guys the rules before they sent them to Earth?

Deep blue eyes blinked. "I can't?"

"No!"

"Why not?"

"You're an angel! A guy angel! Read the fucking _Bible!"_ burst out of him in one rushed string of words.

Cas stared at him for another moment, then the corners of his mouth twitched. A chuckle escaped and it was Dean's turn to stare. Castiel apparently found this hilarious as he began to laugh, a deep laugh in clear violation of every hard won fact he'd gained from Anna. The bastard. Dean's stare turned into a scowl which only made Cas laugh harder.

"What is so damned fucking funny?"

Cas seemed beyond coherent speech, but he managed to gasp out, "When I told you to read … role of angels … never meant … literal … you of all people," before he totally lost it. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and Dean really wanted his knife so he could stab the winged freak again.

Then suddenly those wings he couldn't see wrapped around him and drew him away from the door and against Castiel's body. Even struggling to stop laughing, it was the warmest sexiest body he'd ever felt. Dean shivered and let himself sag against Cas, feeling lost and broken inside.

Arms as well as wings moved to hold him, and he felt alarmingly close to tears. "I love you," he whispered into the sudden silence. "I can't be the reason you Fall."

"I won't Fall."

"You have to if we. …"

"God is love, Dean. No expression of it is abhorrent in his eyes."

"But-"

Cas caught his lips in a kiss, swallowing his protest, then he stepped back. "There are no Jewish missionaries, my love."

"What?"

A warm smile settled on his face. "I believe the correct phrase is 'google it.'"

Dean blinked and found himself alone. Google it? He's doing a scene right out of the sappiest chick flick ever and feather breath tells him to go google something? "I am going to pluck you like a chicken and roast you on a spit," he muttered, stalking out of his room. He had to break stride to use the key to Sammy's room and felt a guilty rush of relief that Ruby was too hurt for sexcapades.

"Sorry," he muttered for breaking up a – all things considered – fairly chaste kiss, then made a beeline for Sam's laptop. Dean had one of his own, but geekboy always had his set up and Dean was not in the mood for reboot delays.

Dean dropped into the chair in front of the computer and started keyboarding. One search later he found out that Mr. Cryptic had been right. There were no Jewish missionaries. In fact the faithful took a dim view of the whole idea. He glared up at the ceiling and shouted, "Still not seeing the point here!"

"Dude, what the hell?" Sam asked.

Dean supposed he should have expected the 'Christo' and the face full of holy water after he answered, "Cas wants to fuck and when I said we couldn't he said go google 'there are no Jewish missionaries.'"

Dean spit the water out of his mouth and glared at his brother. "What?"

"He's a guy, Dean."

"Duh! That's why I said we couldn't, but this is supposed to be the reason we can. And damn it, Sam, if you throw any more water I'm going to murder your ass!"

Moving with the deliberate care he might display around a pissed off grizzly, Sam withdrew his hand from the vicinity of a second flask of holy water. Which was a damned good thing since they were running low on the stuff. He'd have to get Cas to do the mojo thing and whip some more up for them. "Dean," he said using that same on-eggshells-so-please-don't-bite manner, "you aren't into guys."

Oh, come on! Dean stared at Sam. Given the fairly impressive number of exceptions to that statement, Dean couldn't quite believe his ears. Sure he'd tried to keep it a secret – hadn't really wanted Dad or Bobby or well, Sammy, to know – but he and Sam had lived in each others' pockets for four years now. He had to have noticed something. But, nope, no light bulbs coming on in Sammyland. "You are either the most unobservant dork in the universe or you are taking back every single thing you ever said about my lack of discretion."

Sam sat down hard on the edge of the nearest bed, and alarm bells began to cut through Dean's irritation. "Sammy, is my being bi a problem?" He'd been so certain his brother had figured it out long ago, it had never occurred to him to break the news with something less than a sledge hammer.

"What? No!" Sam protested, in his best pissy-at-the-very-idea manner, and Dean so did not have time for this.

"Well, then hold the freak out later, 'cause I need your help here."

"You really –"

Okay, enough of this. It wasn't about guys. It was about Cas. "I love him, Sammy. Help me."

Dean seldom used the L word for family and never had for anyone else, so using it now screamed of deadly serious here. "Yeah, all right," Sam said, pulling himself together and moving into the chair next to Dean. "What exactly did he say?"

Dean went through it again, then gestured at his search results. "This says he's right, but I still don't get it. You've read the _Bible,_ how does it fit in?" Dean had done some skim reading since Cas had popped up, but not enough to handle this.

"Well, the early Hebrews were a tribe. A family. They didn't welcome outsiders."

Dean added that to sex. Sex plus family equaled babies. "So they got new followers by having babies."

Sam nodded, then pasted on his I'm-thinking frown. "That would be it then!"

"What?"

"The reason the _Bible_ has edicts against any sort of sex that doesn't lead to births." He gave his brother a triumphant grin.

And yeah, Dean got it. Not the word of God, but of followers with an agenda. Dean had known that much before this whole angels-are-real stuff sent his views on religion into a tail spin. The green light for sex with Cas flashed, and he joined Sammy in that grin.

Leave it to the demon to be a killjoy. "But he's still an angel," Ruby spoke up for the first time since he'd burst into the room. "Human's can't have sex with angels." She said it with absolute conviction and Anna's one-liner about sex being a good reason to be human, not an angel popped back into his head.

Male, yes. Angel, no. Problem not solved and why had Cas led him on? The answer came to him in a chilling rush -- because he was willing to give up his Grace for Dean, willing to Fall for him. And Dean loved him too much to ever let that happen. He turned a stricken look on Sam and gave strong, if momentary, thought to bawling.

*

Castiel had watched the Winchester brothers figure out his puzzle with amusement, but it vanished beneath the demoness' words. He could feel the tears burning in Dean's eyes, feel the despair shattering his heart. It staggered him for a moment, and before he could focus enough to manifest, Sam said, "Angels can't have sex in their true form. There's no reason they couldn't when they take human form."

He decided to wait. He knew Dean. What the two brothers figured out together would be more real, truer to Dean than anything Castiel could say, especially so soon after Anna's deceptions. Dean might love him, but they had some distance to travel together before Dean learned to trust what Castiel was.

Ruby shook her head. "No, the _Bible_ said that when angels had sex with humans God punished them."

Her words reminded him the demon had lived as a human 300 years ago. She would have a literal interpretation of things beneath the modern persona she projected so well.

Sam frowned. "They gave birth to giants. I don't know if that's punishment –"

Sam and Ruby went on for several minutes arguing and looking things up, but nothing leapt out and gave them the answer. He was going to have to step in.

Dean stopped him. "Cas said God was love; that He didn't look down on any form of it."

Sam nodded, although Ruby snorted and muttered something about mother-of-all-tough-loves in the _Old Testament._

Dean shook his head, and Castiel could almost see him clinging to the idea of not confusing the words of followers with the word of God. "What if … the angels who got in trouble … what if they weren't making love?"

"Rape?"

"Yeah, or, you know, like being all dazzled by the rich and famous – using how star struck some dumb sap is against them."

Castiel smiled. He had never managed to dazzle Dean, not even when he'd tried for more platonic reasons. The man had seen too much and been through too much for even a member of the Heavenly Host to make him lose all sense.

Sam nodded. "Or saying the only way to reach salvation is to worship with your body."

"Yeah, that fits with what Cas said." Oddly, despite having the answers he needed, Castiel felt Dean's spirits plummet again. "Which brings up the question of the body."

Sam, ever one to understand his brother, said, "You mean his vessel."

"Yeah, what does the guy trapped inside think of all of this? Cas said the dude was devote, had prayed to be possessed by an angel. Can't see that sort of guy wanting to go along with this."

"He's an angel, not a demon, Dean," Ruby said, rolling her eyes.

"Ruby?" Sam asked, looking to her to help his brother.

"They don't posses, they take over after death like I did with coma girl. He's probably had that form for centuries." Since the Bronze Age, actually. "In any case, nobody's inside that body but Castiel."

A lightness spread throughout Dean, one Castiel had not felt within him since Dean had been joking with his brother about being 're-hymenated.' A conversation he'd had the distinct impression Dean hoped he was listening in on.

An awkwardness fell about Sam, and he shifted uncomfortably. "Umm, maybe Ruby and I should go get some dinner or something."

"No need, Sammy," Dean said softly. "I booked the room next door."

"Oh." Sam bit his lower lip obviously aware of the significance of the act. He glanced at Ruby. "I ah, guess it is kind of time we start doing that."

Castiel watched the brothers gather up Dean's things, then Sam followed Dean to the next room. Quietly they set up the salt lines, then before Sam could leave Dean said, "I don't know who we can really trust, Sammy. Both sides have plans, and I've not been wild about a lot of what we've seen of them, but –"

Sam clasped his arm. "We'll get through it together."

Dean nodded and returned the grip. After a moment, he grinned, "You tell, Demon Girl, I will so kick her ass if she breaks your heart."

Sam grinned. "Same message to the angel." They nodded, knowing despite the smiles they'd each made the other a promise, one Castiel and Ruby would do well to be mindful of.

Castiel wanted to manifest and tell Sam he had no reason to fear for his brother's heart, but he decided once more to wait and watch. He wanted to see what Dean would do, wanted him to summon him consciously, gladly.

Sam left and to Castiel's surprise and disappointment, Dean did not call to him. Instead he stripped off his clothes, then headed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. A moment later the shower came on. It was tempting to spy on him, but the door said rather clearly Dean knew he was around and didn't want an audience. Or maybe it was simply habit from years of sharing small hotel rooms. With no real way to know, he opted to give the man his privacy.

He only had to wait a few minutes before the water shut off. Another two and the door swung open, but Dean did not come out. Instead he stood in front of the toilet with one foot up on the closed lid. He picked up the small bottle of lotion even a rundown hotel like this provided for guests, then poured some on to his fingers.

Reaching around and back, Dean began to rub his opening, circling, slowly, the lotion glistening on his skin. One finger pushed inside, then a second joined it, and they began a slow dance of twist and push.

Castiel felt heat rise within him even without a solid body, and he felt thankful for the absence of one. He would never have lasted in the face of this display.

Dean withdrew his fingers, added more lotion, then pushed three fingers into his body. Twist, thrust, twist, thrust, while his head tilted back and he moaned. The sound made him stop. Again he withdrew his fingers, washed his hands, then walked into the room, his steps slow, his erection already leaking.

He threw back the covers on the bed, then stretched out. He bent his knees, planting his feet as far apart as could possibly be comfortable, then he sighed, "Cas."

Castiel appeared beside the bed, not bothering to manifest his clothing along with his body. He drank in the sight of Dean, and felt Dean's hungry gaze on his own flesh. "Beautiful," he whispered. "So utterly beautiful."

A blush colored Dean's face and he reached out to catch hold of Castiel's wrist. A gentle tug pulled him down to stretch out over Dean. He could feel the tremor in Dean's body, the need for release matching the throb in his own, but they kissed first. Hands exploring, tongues entwining, they tortured themselves for long minutes, each hungry for the other, each desperate to touch after so many weeks of denial.

Finally, Dean pulled his mouth away from Castiel's, rubbed his jaw against the angel's cheek and whispered, "Do it."

A simple shift and push sheathed him within Dean. Loud moans echoed through the room, then faded to soft gasps as they began to move together. Slow and deep, then faster, harder – their bodies strained to merge beyond what the mind knew possible.

Suddenly Dean stiffened, his eyes wide and wild as a liquid warmth pulsed against Castiel's stomach. The feel of it as much as the tight contractions around his cock compelled his own release, and he spilled his seed deep into Dean's body.

They collapsed together, but he caught his breath quickly enough to share one last, long kiss before his soften flesh fell free of Dean's warmth. He did not like the separation and frowned slightly. "Something wrong?" Dean murmured, caressing Castiel's arms.

Castiel shifted to the side, then settled Dean against him. "I dislike not being inside you."

Dean chuckled and shifted so he could look at him. "Hey, feel free to visit anytime."

The words, the tone held a lightness, but Castiel also heard the acknowledgment that Dean knew he would leave soon. He pulled Dean into another kiss and made the only logical decision. "I am not leaving," he announced when their lips parted.

Dean grinned. "You can stay the night?"

"You misunderstand. I am not leaving."

Hope seemed at war with wariness in Dean's lovely eyes. "I thought you had other battles to fight, angel shit to do."

True enough, but he had faced a greater truth. "My thoughts are always on you, not the duties that take me from you. It is safer for all if I remain with you."

"So you're staying?"

"Yes."

"Not gonna go poof every other minute?"

"No."

"You're really staying?"

He smiled, and kissed the tip of Dean's nose. "Yes."

Dean wrinkled his nose, but his eyes sparkled. "For how long?"

Castiel knew what Dean wanted to hear. Fortunately it was an answer he could offer in complete truth. "Forever, my love."

"Good." Dean closed his eyes with a gentle sigh, and began to drift toward sleep. "Love you, too."

"Good. Sleep now."

"Don't like to," he protested, but was obviously too worn out to resist much longer.

He pressed a kiss to Dean's forehead. "There will be no more nightmares. I will guard against them."

"'kay." A soft sigh, then he slept.

Castiel held him, and made certain his dreams were sweet. Later they would rise, and return to Sam's room. There would be food and a long discussion about the practicality of four of them and one car. Then someone would remember that Bobby had found and fixed up John Winchester's old truck. Things the Winchesters had come to count on would change, but laughter and love would make the grimness easier to endure. Yes, things would change, and not even Castiel knew all of what Heaven had planned. In the end, he might still have to choose between Father and lover. But Castiel would face the wrath of God for Dean Winchester. And he would do so gladly.

But for now, he lay in an unremarkable hotel room with a remarkable man in his arms, and let what Grace he could not continue to contain flow slowly from his body and into the necklace Dean wore. Near the heart of the man he loved, he could think of no safer place to store it. He smiled and embraced change.

End


End file.
